


Unforeseen

by dbshawn



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Adult Content, M/M, Secret Saito Gift Exchange 2020, mention of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:49:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28439409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dbshawn/pseuds/dbshawn
Summary: Saito bumps into Dom Cobb at a conference and before he knows it they shift into a relationship. Now he wants to celebrate their union and claim Cobb completely for himself, sans Mallory.
Relationships: Dom Cobb/Saito
Comments: 8
Kudos: 10
Collections: Secret Saito 2020





	Unforeseen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sacrificeformymadness.tumblr.com](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Sacrificeformymadness.tumblr.com).



> I had a blast writing this story as a gift for the 2020 Secret Saito Exchange. I hope https://sacrificeformymadness.tumblr.com/ enjoys the story! Happy Holidays!

When Dom Cobb startles awake at three in the morning, his heart is pounding, his forehead drenched in pearls of sweat and his throat is dry and scratchy. He touches his face and rubs his throat several times to ground himself and remember where and who he is. His hands pad over to the nearby nightstand until his fingers fumble with that familiar titanium die.

_I’m safe. Solid. Okay._

Beside him Saito stirs slightly, gazing at him through lidded eyes still heavy from his own deep slumber.

“Are you al...?” he offers.

“’M fine. Just need to pee. ‘S all.” Dom interrupts.

They both know it's a lie. But Dom simply doesn't feel like getting into it right now. They're three years out from Inception and as luck would have it, he's been dreaming steadily on his own now. Sometimes the dreams are a pleasant pastoral reverie of his own making.

Rolling hills of pungent grass peppered in between wheat and vegetables. A stone house set upon the apex of a hill, with large, wide windows, allowing sunlight through most of them. It culminates into a golden pool of warmth in the space between the open kitchen and the living room. Outside the kitchen windows, a view of the gentle countryside and from the living room windows a view all the way to a crystalline blue sea. There's a broad stone fireplace for the colder months, but in this summer reverie, every window is open to let the mighty breezes blow through, cooling the entire space. Sometimes this hearth-home is enough to take him into waking hours. Feeling warm and comforted and grounded in the world and in himself.

But other times the dreams route over familiar terrifying territory he's already traversed. Long wind strewn walks along an endless beach, cottages, high rises, curved architectural works yet unseen, rising in the distance as they stroll, hand in hand, never asking themselves “Why" but challenging the ether with the endless taunt of “Why not?”, daring the landscape to change again and again and again.

In the bathroom, Dom cups his hands beneath running water from the faucet and splashes his face several times with it. Cold and startling him. He looks the same. Except for darkened skin beneath his eyes. Even now, the breadth of life and dreams and death he's already experienced wear on him like the tug of an overstuffed shoulder bag on his spine.

He just wants to rest. To sleep. To drift endlessly in a quiet cascade of cloud. He rubs his eyes swiftly, remembering that Saito arranged for the children (Phillipa and James) to soon spend a month with their grandfather in the French countryside. He's relieved. On top of losing Mal and scrambling around the world to clear his name, Dom's most pressing worry was the safety and sanity of his kids.

He spent nine months bouncing from flathouse to hotel to hidden cottage and bungalow with Arthur, working small jobs surreptitiously, using pseudonyms and fake passports, utilizing disguises and facial hair in an attempt to keep himself viable, while he sought to gather crumbs of evidence that could one day aid him in an exoneration.

All that, while being a shell of a man.

He lost his appetite, his will to live, even his desire for sex. Because the one person who meant everything to him was gone. Because of his own mistakes. It was too much to bear. Too much to comprehend.

He thought about killing himself many times to relieve the chasm in his chest. Thought maybe if he slipped beneath the water in the tub or took enough sleeping pills one night after dinner that maybe he could drift away peacefully and finally stop the pressing ache that sat right in the middle of his head and his gut and his heart.

He had to hand it to Arthur. How many friends would drop their lives completely to follow someone like him around the world? How many would let go of their prospects, their homes, their intimate relations to make sure a colleague and a friend got themselves back on their right footing? None that Dom knew. That's for damn sure.

Arthur was fastidious and exacting, he would often overthink his jobs, to the point of annoying everyone else on his team. But when Dom had needed him, truly needed him, Arthur was there. Designer suits, Tom Ford cologne and all.

He worked those subpar jobs right alongside Dom, forgoing work that could have set him straight for life, all because he refused to allow Dom to suffer alone. He made sure Dom ate, made backup plans for the backup plans, had no qualms killing anyone who even seemed as if they were going to cause trouble. And waylaid a burgeoning romance with that bastard Eames, just to be certain that Dom was okay. Up until that point, outside of his father-in-law, Arthur was the one man he owed his life to. The one he could never repay.

Until of course Saito.

* * *

Once Inception was complete, Dom accepted his wired funds along with the rest of the team and headed home to his two babies, to hug them, smother them in kisses and burpees and every other form of Daddy-fection that he could muster. Mal would appear in the kitchen when he made toast with jam, she'd scowl by the diving board when he took them to play at the neighborhood pool and she'd even taunt him when he gave them their nightly baths and read them a bedtime story before kissing them sweetly goodnight. But Dom didn't care about her foul presence at all. He was truly and finally home. Where he belonged. And if he had to contend with Mallory haunting the liminal space between sanity and insanity, reality, and dreams (lucid or otherwise), Dom was happy to contend with that threat, just for the chance to be a proper father again.

He didn't work again for a long time. Ten months to be exact. Okay, that's not entirely true. He took on legit jobs, research mostly, that allowed him to work more from home than in an office. He consulted on dreamshare jobs (off the books, of course) and began to reacquaint himself with his first love: architecture.

It only took a few weeks to get up and running again with the latest version of AutoCAD and to sadly, learn how much automation had taken the place of honest-to-goodness drafting under tutelage of a visionary. What Dom was most interested in now were new works. Getting a feel for what people were building and why they were building it. It seemed to be getting harder and harder to find inspiration from office buildings (at least in the States). So, Dom used municipal buildings, performance houses, commissioned work for private houses and museums as his inspiration.

He ventured around Los Angeles, San Francisco, Portland, and Seattle, then headed to St. Louis and Minneapolis, Chicago, Philadelphia, New York down to Richmond, Va., DC and even Atlanta and New Orleans.

Even amongst familiar architectural delights, there was work commissioned by municipal boards or gifted through generous endowments by anonymous benefactors. Dom wasn't so keen on the new trend of “all glass everything”. He was an Angeleno after all and disasters sadly sat in the back of his cranium like wild tufts of weed in manicured grass, warning of an untimed chaos that could sear the cultivated calm at any time.

When he’d had his fill and became quite bored with the States, he turned elsewhere. He figured he’d start with Asia: Beijing, Shanghai and Singapore, then make his way West until he reached Europe. It would serve as the perfect post-dreamshare excursion and give him time to know and enjoy these cities in a proper way, outside of pinging from building to building in order to avert suspicion or to trail unsuspecting marks. Was there any place he actually remembered well outside of Paris and LA?

He began creating his itinerary in May of that year. A few weeks before the kids would finish school and within enough time for him to purchase open-ended flights in order to let them tag along on a few of the trips.

But first, he wanted to checkout a Security conference being held in Sydney, Australia. There was plenty of legitimate work to consider and certifications for network systems was always a solid fallback.

The first day of the conference, he picked up his obligatory nametag and binder of materials and headed into a large conference hall to hear the opening keynote speakers. They were interesting enough. Innovative visionaries from tech companies, medical research facilities, security systems and urban planning agencies all introduced their latest software and technological visions for merging AI with human talents in order to create sophisticated security systems across the breadth of home, business, travel, and medical facets of life.

Having never completely lost his penchant for utilizing dreamshare, Dom was of course fascinated by the merging of AI with human physiology and how that might play out in the cataloguing or protection of an individual’s subconscious. He wasn’t planning on going back. But these kinds of possibilities, who knew?

It was on his way to a sunny lounge area, during one of their generous breaks that Dom pulled his phone out to answer a call from the nanny. He’d dropped a few pens from inside his pocket and when he stood upright again to walk, that’s when he bumped into the well-suited man in front of him. Silver gray Brooks Brothers with a silk dark mauve tie and matching ‘kerchief in the left-hand pocket. He was distracted by the man’s color theme and the light musky sandalwood scent of his cologne while trying to answer the woman’s questions about James’ food allergies. So, he almost missed the fact that the man in question was speaking to him. And not in the vein of a stranger either.

When he hung up and finally lifted his head, he realized he was looking at Saito. Dom managed to mutter out a “How’s it going?”. But in truth, it took him a few seconds to believe that what his eyes registered was actually correct and not some convoluted part of another one of his dreams. Longer hair, he’d even grown a beard. But it was definitely him.

“Didn’t think you’d bump into me here, did you?” The left corner of Saito’s mouth turned up ever so slightly as he placed a large hand on Dom’s shoulder. He tried to gauge where or not the shock in the architect’s eyes was a negative or a positive.

Dom felt the Earth shift a bit and swallowed uncomfortably past the sudden lump in his throat. The reel of his prior life was scrolling speedily against the screen in his head and suddenly he was in the apartment Saito kept for his mistress, desperate to prove to the sleeping tycoon that he was the only one for the job.

* * *

Saito's accustomed to Dom actually dreaming again. Sometimes original visions gifted to him from his brilliant mind, but too often images from a life long gone. It's not that he wants Dom to erase everything. He's got children for Chrissake. But it would be nice if Mallory didn't still hold such an ominous sway over him. They say no partner can compete with the deceased. Competing with someone who refuses to die is actually worse in Saito’s mind.

He's not a jealous person. For the most part. But he can't help but feel a stinging bolt in his chest when he thinks about how Dom is still experiencing Mallory. They've been together for three years now, which means it's been eight years since Mal's wayward journey came to an end. That's more than enough time for Dom to be “over it". At least in the fully functional first layer of his life.

The fact that she lingers on, nay, persists in maintaining a presence in Dom's, well, their lives is enough to cause Saito to become fully angry. As in _smash some plaster or break a door_ angry. And he rarely ever allows such strong emotions to overtake him. But it's maddening. And although Dom is now seeing a therapist and engaged in group meetings, he can't help but wonder if a little tiny piece of the architect enjoys this struggle. Maybe even feels that its rightful penance for the part he played.

Saito doesn't him to ever forget Mal. He just wants to be able to claim the largest piece of the man who began as his client and slowly became his lover. He's selfish and he's unnerved, and he needs reassurances of his own. Although he'd never admit this aloud to anyone without threat of death. Or monetary annihilation.

Saito yawns widely running his hand down the muscular plane of his chest, stopping just before reaching the elastic band of his boxers and has a thought.

What if he can indulge Dom for a weekend. Bring him back to center? Tease him and caress him? Even with Dom still in the bathroom and his member begin to stir, he decides that it's a brilliant plan. He needs to brainstorm, write out several options. Hell, sometimes Dom even talks in his sleep. Maybe all needs to do is keep a tiny notebook and wait for sleeping Dom to help him make a list. His assistants can help him with the final legwork.

But he figures this is what Dom needs. What they both need to hold outside specters at bay.

“That'll do nicely...” he mumbles as he slips a hand beneath the elastic waistband and reaches for himself.

* * *

Running into each other that day was indeed coincidence. After a successful inception, Saito spent most of his working hours shuttling back and forth between Dubai, London, a newly discovered oil field in Western Australia and Tokyo. When not holding his energy empire together between copious visits with the softer sex, coupled with whisky and cocaine, Saito was happiest to hole up in his country home, tending to his koi pond, snipping bonsai trees, and perfecting a recipe for a special sponge cake he liked to share with his children whenever they deemed his worthy of a visit.

He’d only come to Sydney that week because the energy conference held particular relevance for his businesses. He didn’t care so much for Australia in general. The wide-open spaces were inviting, but the landscape away from the cities was too arid for his liking and all of the wildlife seemed bent towards human destruction.

While his face never betrayed the feeling, he was in as much in shock to see Dominic again as Dom was to see him. Once their wire transfer went through and Fischer sold him that juicy corporate real estate, Saito didn’t think twice about the dreamshare team. Well, except for lucid moments he had while sleeping and images of speeding freight trains, snow-capped hillsides, and him as a decrepit old man in Tokyo sprang to the forefront.

He wasn’t really thinking about dreamshare then but remembering all of the different ways and levels he’d traveled to get what he wanted from the Fischers.

Still, it was good to see Dom. Good to see that the man survived it all, kept his sanity and was now doing _Lordknowswhat_ with his time to keep himself occupied. Saito had paid him enough to allay his need for work for several years.

But Saito knew that Dom was like him in this one respect; he was a shark. Ravenous, hungry, deadly, only when necessary, and someone who could never stop moving. That was the thing that ultimately got Dom the job. That and the fact that the apartment/riot fuck-up was mostly due to Nash’s betrayal/incompetence. He’d never hired dreamshare team members before that, but Dom’s solidity and assurances gave him the ultimate confidence that the job would get done. He only tagged along to provide a sliver of a threat, making sure they reached their destination.

* * *

For the first time in a long time, Saito gets excited planning this surprise. Their relationship seemed to happen organically. He wasn’t initially attracted to Dom. Their “reconnection”, if it can be called that, hinged on Dom’s newly found desire to travel, and experience the world outside of the stressors of work. Dom held an endless curiosity not only for architecture, but for art, culinary delights, and the myriad number of ways that humans could find pleasure when they weren’t busy scrounging to make a living.

After his vicious rise as a corporate lawyer, turned investment banker turned oil exec, after divorcing two wives and struggling to keep maintain with his children, Saito realized that not only was he alone, but he wasn’t particularly enjoying himself outside of his career. It was difficult for him to remember the last time something in his outside life made him smile and he realized that in spite of the massive wealth he’d procured, there wasn’t anything that brought him unabashed pleasure. If he wanted to actually change that, he knew he’d need to reroute his train in another direction.

So, he allowed himself to get drawn into Dom’s newfound fascination with travel. Even offered to take Dom on a tour of lesser-known parts of Japan, sharing his love of bamboo forests, sumo wrestling and karaoke. Allowing Dom to indulge in skiing, the splendor of Mount Fuji, Buddhist temples and the ancient graveyards that were architectural wonders in and of themselves.

It was never a constant thing. A week here, a few days there, contacting Dom before musical festivals, or New Year’s celebrations and before he knew it, they’d found a comfortability with each other, at least in terms of travel and sightseeing.

Dom knew there was no way to properly repay the man who literally had everything, so he’d often invite him over to whatever air bnb home he’d rented out and would indulge him in some of the most creative meals from scratch. Saito couldn’t believe the world-class architect could his own in the kitchen as well. Creamy gnocchi with parmesan, plump roasts, and fresh bountiful salads full of plump vegetables led to excellent conversations, a few sparring matches and bar trips.

One day he invited Dom to a small gathering to celebrate the acquisition of a huge oil well off the coast of Karratha, Western Australia. Instead of Dom returning to his own rental, he somehow found himself gasping next to Saito in the back of the man’s limousine, breathing harshly as Saito sucked greedily at the tender flesh on the side of his neck while his long sturdy fingers ran shamelessly down his shirt. His fingers toyed with Dom’s nipples, tested the bands of muscles at his abdomen and then found their satisfaction slipping between the man’s legs to rub against his curious yet interested member. Dom was fully clothed and very much determined to stay as such until they reached Saito’s penthouse.

From there, there were a few pensive months of pretending nothing had happened, connecting again and finally settling into a rhythm of “let’s just see where this takes us” that allowed a full-fledged relationship to blossom. Although surging with passionate moments, they found themselves being, egregiously honest. They were adults, peppered with enough real-world responsibilities that neither one of them thought they’d be caught up emotionally. Maybe this was an affair that would peter out before the summer ended. Or maybe it was simply a curious excursion from two lives mired in heterosexuality and the confines of marriage with children and level-headedness.

After the sex continued even as the trips slowed down and Dom made a consistent effort to stay in touch, even travel, while dutifully tending to his children, it became obvious that this was more than just a phase or a happening in their lives. Saito tested the waters of permanency by first purchasing a building in LA (of course), using his penthouse apartment there as a place Dom could retreat when the children didn’t require as much attention. Then he began spending nights at Dom’s house when the children were away. And finally, when they were both ready to admit that this might actually be a relationship that could have staying power, Saito, left his downtown LA digs and moved into Dom’s more modestly built ranch style home. He did this initially of course when the children were off from school so Dom could help everyone get acclimated.

After a season of tripping over toys, helping with math homework, buying birthday cakes, and reading bedtime stories, Saito and Dom fell into a lovely domesticity that Saito realized he’d missed with all of his own children. James accepted Saito readily, but Philippa, who had been especially close with her mother and still called for her from time to time, was a bit more wary. It took her quite a while, but she finally warmed up to Saito when he got her a puppy for her eighth birthday. Who says a little bribery doesn’t go a long way?

* * *

Saito called his executive assistants in three time zones to gather a list of enticing options, but instead, decided to sift through his memory bank until he remembered a certain something Dom said in his sleep about a place he’d never been for work or otherwise. He decided to pounce on this and made a proper shopping list (that his assistants would fulfill, of course). He hoped Dom would love this!

* * *

It’s a Tuesday morning at seven am and they’re both standing in the bathroom, in varied states of dress and comportment. Saito’s brushing his teeth while Dom slathers shaving cream on his jaw and around his mouth, clicking the electric razor on in his other hand. Saito smiles at the sound of the buzzing noise it makes, smirking before he spits out a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink and fills his glass with water.

“What?” Dom asks sideways glancing at him, instead of looking at him in the mirror.

Saito pulls a large chug of water into his mouth and gargles thoroughly, spitting into the bowl when he’s done and wiping his mouth with a nearby hand towel.

“Nothing. I just love watching you shave.” He winks at Dom before he can respond and then turns the point man’s head towards him with one hand and kisses him directly on the lips, smearing a bit of the shaving cream Dom spread around.

When he pulls back, he too has shaving cream on his chin. He wipes most of it off with his hand, still grinning.

“Satisfied?” Dom questions.

Saito’s still grinning. He can’t help it.

“Indeed I am. Your shaving cream kisses are the best.” He winks and Dom who slants his eyes at him questioningly, suspecting that something is clearly wrong with the man.

Saito pay him no mind. He dampens his hand towel slightly beneath the water and simply wipes himself clean.

“And you’re sure you cleared your schedule for Friday?”

Saito asks, without betraying any emotion in his face. It’s a routine question.

“Yes, I did.” Dom answers, clearly annoyed.

“I just want to spend some time with a certain architect.”

“And you will. I promise. I just need to get the kids situated, drop in on the contractors and wrap up a few items with my clients.”

They’d finally begun building a new house for themselves, the children and even Dom’s in-laws if they desired to stay for longer periods of time. After months of arguing about the minute details, Dom finalized the blueprints himself and then chose talented members of his former firm to begin working on the build. It would be nice to finally have a home that marked their relationship, their life together.

“Don’t know what’s gotten into you lately. You’re the one who doesn’t know how to take time off.” Dom was slightly cranky (due to lack of restful sleep, he was sure). But he was also right. It was usually Dom who was trying to get Saito to clear his schedule. And Saito resisted because being in charge meant never falling slack; always keeping an edge and staying three steps ahead of competitors and trends alike. Like a shark always seeking to feed, slowing down often felt like preeminent death. He’d finally begun to temper that when he started up with Dom.

“I just want us to spend some quality time together. Unless of course, there’s someone else who’s captured your attention…”

“Now that you mention it, there was this one guy Peter hired. He’s amazing at laying down stonework. I wonder what else he can lay down?”

Dom waits a second before grinning slickly at Saito in the mirror and winking.

“Just make sure you’re done with him and all the rest of your business by Friday.”

Saito waits a beat, then coyly slaps Dom on his ass then goes back to their bedroom to finish dressing.

* * *

Dom admittedly hasn’t slept well the last few weeks. His psychiatrist prescribed him some anti-anxiety medicine, but he can’t bring himself to take it.

He’s tired. Tired of being tired. Keeping his mind on the new house and his work has been good. Philippa and James are curious and quick and growing into themselves. It makes him ache to think that he almost lost this. Could have been sent away and missed these precious moments with his babies.

And Saito. Things with Saito are…good. He never really thought he’d be in a relationship again, let alone with a man or anyone he’d inadvertently worked. Yet he can’t help but think that their relationship is some sort of metaphysical placeholder.

As much as he’s haunted by the past, he also clings to the notion that it’s his. Part of his story and it can never be erased. Maybe if he and Mal had never had the babies … But that’s not the case.

He finishes up work at the office, then swings by the new house to touch base with Peter to let him know about the upcoming deliveries, that will be for the stone fireplace and the foundation of the pool out back.

This new house wasn’t his idea, but Saito pushed for it and eventually Dom relented. His old place was going to be too cramped soon for Philippa and James anyways. They’d both been lucky enough to make several school aged friends and his father-in-law had talked about coming to live in LA for part of the year to help out. So maybe this new house thing would be a good idea after all.

Dom battled the 405 heading south until he hit the Interstate 10 and took that west towards Malibu. They were already into the first week of December, so it was cooler than usual, but still sunny and warm. He was grateful he’d never allowed his curiosity to make him head out East.

* * *

When he got home, he could hear pans and utensils clanging in the kitchen and was surprised to find Saito at the source of all of the noise.

“What’s going on in here?”, he asks, poking his head around the corner from the foyer. The man actually has an apron on with his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Several lines of intense focus are scrunched up on his forehead as he silently mouths instructions from an open book. Dom eyes the large bags of groceries to his right and chuckles to himself.

“Think you can impress me Sai?”

Dom’s taunting him. They both know it. But outside of breakfast and making desserts, he’s never seen the man in the kitchen before for a dinner. He’s actually intrigued.

Saito cranes his head towards Dom and grins lasciviously.

“I can do much more than that,” he responds.

“I was wondering what in the world could have gotten into you…” Dom quipped jokingly.

Saito looked up at him, his eyes darkening slightly.

“Why don’t you make your way to the bedroom? You’ve been working hard lately, so I’ve drawn you a hot bath so you can relax.”

“Hmmmph,” Dom responds. Not really to Saito but more so to himself. This is…a detour from the norm.

Dom doesn’t feel like it warrants a thorough investigation. He simply shrugs his shoulders at the man, swings his suit jacket over his shoulders and heads towards their bedroom.

He toes off his shoes and gently removes his clothes, letting the stress of the day sift off of him in waves. There’s been work, the new house and the kids at the forefront of his mind. And the ever-present guilt of having Mal haunting him in the rear. He’s wanted to talk about it, not with his therapist but with Saito. But he knows the man can be antsy on the subject of Mal. Maybe this weekend would be a good time to broach the subject.

He grabs a fresh washcloth and towel from the linen closet and then enters the bathroom, taking a deep whiff of the coiling steam rising from the water and oh! _Is that sandalwood I’m smelling?_ It’s not like he even talks about it much, but it is one of his favorite scents. The last time he’d even indulged in this was when he was overseas. Now he feels free to let his muscles unclench all the way as he steps carefully into the tub and slips slowly beneath the surface of the water. What a week!

Dom takes his time in the bath, at first scrubbing himself vigorously and then letting himself soak til just before his skin decides to prune up.

He slowly dries himself off, rubbing on a little bit of lotion as his skin begins to dry. When he walks back into the bedroom there’s kurta pajama lounging set laid out on the bed. It’s a rich blue and gold buttons and gold fringe. When he puts it on, he realizes that it must be silk or something similar, because he rarely wears things that feel this good against his skin. He smirks at himself in the full-length mirror, noticing now that he’s relaxed that he might be able to pass as a royal somewhere. He’s never harbored those fantasies for long though. It’s good enough to enjoy feeling like one at home. He takes a few more moments to admire himself and then scents from the kitchen lead him away from his reverie. His stomach swiftly reminds him just how long it’s been since he’s eaten so he wanders back into the living room intending to head into the kitchen.

The atonal sounds of a woman sift through the system speakers. He can’t understand her words, but she lets them soar out from her in a melancholy arch and he imagines she’s mourning the loss of a lover over the winding sitar melody that accompanies her. It’s all so foreign and still painfully familiar. He pulls himself from even plunging further into that pool. There are other streams, other lakes, and oceans to explore now.

“Don’t. Come in here yet. I’m still working,” Saito says, dropping several cloves of garlic into a large stainless-steel pot.

“Peeking won’t ruin the magic, now will it?” Dom is slowly inching closer, threatening to get a glimpse and take a guess at what’s cooking.

“You’ll put in me in a rather foul mood, which will transfer to the food and subsequently to your stomach. And since I have you trapped for the weekend, you don’t want to know what happens when you’re all alone with angry Saito, now do you?”

“Okay, fine, fine, fine. I’ll go and actually flip through some of the books on the coffee table.”

“You do that,” Saito quipped back. His brow was furrowed deep in concentration and Dom swore there were tiny beads of sweat forming at the top of his forehead. Something he rarely saw outside of the bedroom.

He glances at the coffee table titles. Nothing he recognizes or even cares to thumb through. Instead, he pokes around on the bookshelf set into the wall and pulls out some sort of mystery novel. A woman framed for her husband’s murder, must prove he’s still alive before her case goes to trial. Standard low brow schlock but enough to keep him distracted while he waits to eat. Turns out the wife had a lover who may not have had the best of intentions and the husband had a business partner with several legitimate reasons to want the man dead. By the time Dom’s gotten through the first couple of chapters, both families `have discovered her lover and the police have incriminating evidence that could put away for good (she’s sweating bullets). Saito comes into the living room to let him know that dinner is ready, but Dom finds himself hesitant to depart from his tale.

Then he gets a good look at Saito’s face and a whiff of what’s coming from the kitchen and plops the book down on the coffee table.

Low lighting coupled with scented candles set the scene nicely, but he’s more impressed with the sumptuous spread on the table before him.

Dom’s mouth waters as he sits down.

“All of this, for a Friday night dinner?” He’s certainly appreciative but stunned. And he’s even more impressed at the loving care that Saito has put into the meal.

There’s a rich butter chicken in a tomato gravy, lamb in a creamy cashew and yogurt sauce. He’s also made a spicy spinach side dish, dotted with cottage cheese cubes, a fresh salad made of cucumbers, onions, carrots, lettuce, tomatoes and olives with a cool cucumber dressing, oven roasted chickpeas and ginger tea to enjoy once they’re finished.

“Sai, this is really amazing. What’s gotten into to you?”

“Let’s eat now and talk later.”

Which is fine with Dom because he wastes no time digging into his food. The flavors are pungent and strong, and he loves the different textures that burst into his mouth as he uses his garlic bread (naan) to gather up chunks of chicken and lamb and spinach and transfer directly into his mouth. They eat in a comfortable, easy silence. Dom helps himself to a smaller second portion while Saito takes his time enjoying his first. When they’re finished and fully sated, Saito pours both of them large cups of ginger tea and leaves the table for a moment.

“So”, he says sitting in the chair next to Dom’s, “I know you’ve been working really hard with the new house, your consulting and the kids and I wanted to find a way to show you how much I appreciate the effort.”

“But you didn’t have to do all of…” Dom’s thought is crowded out by the press of Saito’s lips against his. He hesitates at first, still unsure at what all of this is about. Then a second later he figures, “What the hell” and leans into the kiss opening his mouth and letting Saito’s tongue tangle with his. It’s warm and wet and tender. He never thought he’d feel like this again.

Before he can bring his hands to Saito’s face, he feels the press of an envelope towards his hand that’s still on the table. He pulls back, truly in awe now. What in the world is going on?

Saito reads the confusion on his face and simply whispers, “Open it.”

He slips a finger beneath the adhesive to open the envelope and pulls a thick sleeve of paper. When he pulls out one of the papers inside, he scans quickly enough to gather that it’s an open-ended airline ticket to Mumbai. He gasps quietly.

“How did you even…?”

Saito grins slyly.

“You know how you sometimes talk in your sleep?”

“You said that was always gibberish.” Dom corrects.

“…mmm sometimes. But other times you’re actually expressing cogent thought.”

Dom grumbles coyly at the revelation. What the hell has been saying when he thought he was fully knocked out?

“Don’t worry love. You know I’d never divulge your secrets,” Saito reassures. “Anyways, a few nights ago, you expressed a dreamtime wish to visit India. So, I figured you should go. My treat.”

“Sai, I don’t even know what to say. This might be the most beautiful gift I’ve ever gotten. From anyone. I don’t know how to thank you.”

He’s emphasized that last word in a silent apology to Saito for all of his residual stuff.

Saito takes his hand. “I can think of a few ways you can show me.” His eyes darken and a Dom’s cheeks become immediately flush with the instant heat of it.

Sai leads him back to the bedroom where they can slowly unravel and explore each other.

“And just so you know, Mr. Cobb,” he begins, unbuttoning Dom’s silk top, “today marks the very day when I realized I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. Happy Anniversary, my love.”

“Wow,” Dom retorts. “We never did set an official beginning date, did we?”

Saito shakes his head as he continues unbuttoning Dom’s top.

Dom grabs his hand, intertwining their fingers together.

“Well then Mr. Saito. Happy Anniversary,” Dom offers back to him.

They’re going to have a delicious night tonight. And many, many more.


End file.
